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"volved" poems
Our vision of the future is changing, oh so fast, that sometimes tomorrow seems just like the past. As we look from the shadow that time has cast. Will we control gravity? With wiggles from the sky, travel to the stars as soon as we learn, again, to fly. Communicate thru DNA with vast "we nets" I ask WHY! It seems, do we assume that the acients were so ultra dumb. When they had the tech-no wit to understand the Aether hum. Wonders from back in the day. Were built by whom? The aliens? I'm not talking immigrants but tiny green folks from beyond: "the stars" Who tweaked our inner programming? E-volved us into bio-crystal jars. And Who's adjusting us today? Perhaps our ancient grandpa's. Maybe not men from Mars. Our dreams? Teleportation space flight, levetation. Traveling thru "The Time" Manipulating, pouring imigaes, into our skulls of quantum fibered slime. Holo-decks with lights and sound. Full access is granted when we become "The Mime" Meditate, like we are them. We are all air fish, learn to swim thru water that is very thin. Surf the waves like crazy loons. Sing out loud, those inner tunes. Life's just one big lagoon. So, Don't *** in the water. Act much more like you ought-er Be more than just fool fodder.
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
Luke, I Am Your Grandfather
Cuando en mis manos, Rey eterno, os miro, y la cándida víctima levanto, de mi atrevida indignidad me espanto y la piedad de vuestro pecho admiro. Tal vez el alma con temor retiro, tal vez la doy al amoroso llanto, que arrepentido de ofenderos tanto con ansias temo, y con dolor suspiro. Volved los ojos a mirarme humanos, que por las sendas de mi error siniestras me despeñaron pensamientos vanos; no sean tantas las miserias nuestras que a quien os tuvo en sus indignas manos vos le dejéis de las divinas vuestras.
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728
Temores en el favor
The songwriter. Hit it dead on button. When he spoke of love. He wrote about the girl being the object of attraction. Even if it was about heartbreak. She still was the one he spoke of trying to love. Now that's love. The songwriter. She wrote about all his wrongs. Not once about the time he was strong. Like when he did wrong to keep her. Like when he was their to support her. Now that's love. Maybe her vision is different from his. Or maybe his was different than hers. But love was in volved. It's just how the story was reported. By him. By her. The songwriter.
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Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 10:30 AM UTC
The Songwriter
Nearer to the edge                              I see. Crawling through           eternity. Searching for the master key. This is our reality. Communication has de-                                          volved. None of our real problems solved.   We have become      uninvolved while the whole world revolves. Spinning further from cont                                           ro                                             l. Turn 'round and view it as a whole.   Mother Nature's gifts we        stole. This is how our story goes. Once black and white. Once dark and light. To complicate. Bring on our fate. Our halos tilt. Intentions wilt. Ambitions great. Never too late. Turn 'round to see the sum of things. Counting on the dead tree's rings. Refering to ourselves as kings. Soaring on the deathbird's wing.
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 11:59 AM UTC
Sum of Things